


Conquering the Past

by greenfairy13



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Doctor Who 50th Anniversary, F/F, F/M, Gen, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 20:09:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1197909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenfairy13/pseuds/greenfairy13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Have you ever thought about time?" she mused. “There are infinite options, infinite varieties. Everything can happen and everything is possible. But then there comes a moment...a single moment...a tiny moment, and one individual makes a decision. Then, the infinity is gone. All the options are gone, gone forever and what remains is a fixed point in time that can never be rewritten. Infinite variety turns into infinite regret."</p><p>Betaed by the absolutey amazing <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/elensari">elensari</a><br/>The Doctor settles down in Victorian England. River Song and the Ponds are lost and he decides to turn his back on the universe. But his reverie ends when two men try to assassinate the Doctor and a mysterious woman shows up, who desperately tries to hide her face and true identity. Reunion Fic + 50th fix it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Holiday

Every living being has a limit. Every living being can only bear a particular amount of pain. Just add enough pressure and you can witness anyone break.

 

The Doctor had a very high pain threshold, probably the highest in the entire universe, perhaps in any universe.

 

He suffered and endured enough over the past thousand and some years. As if he knew how old he was. For God's sake, he was a time traveller - the ageless wanderer in time. One moment he was in in the 1930ies on Earth, then he was in the year five billion on a planet with an unpronounceable name.

 

How are you supposed to keep track on your age with such a life style? Not at all.

 

He did not notice it in the first place. The feeling did not came suddenly. It sneaked itself into his hearts over time but after all, time was everything the Doctor ever really owned. Or maybe time owned him.

 

The Ponds were gone. River had led a group of adventurers to the library planet. She was gone too. Which added three more beloved, adored people to his long list of “lost forever”.

 

The universe had always been unfair on him. All his efforts had always been rewarded with loss and pain.

 

Saving the universe, planets and species was really not a well rewarded job at all — even if you're best at it, even if you're regarded as a superhero in the eyes of the ones you meet along the way.

 

The bloody problem with superheroes is that they always end up alone. The happy endings are booked for the people he saves, for his sidekicks; but not for the hero himself. He goes “home” and hopes to find someone to stitch up the wounds until the next fight starts. The hero has no wife waiting, or kids, or even a dog; well a robot dog maybe, but they don't count, do they?

 

He really messed things up this time. He lost too many people and he was unable to connect with others. The places he travelled seemed grey and boring nowadays. One planet looked exactly like the other. They were inhabited by more or less cruel species, either fighting with each other or another species or someone went mad, trying to take over power.

 

History constantly repeated itself and he was damned to jump in and set things right. The story was all the same over and over and over again; just the faces would change.

 

It was the silence that nearly drove him mad. The TARDIS, being an incredibly huge spaceship with over hundred bedrooms, several swimming pools, libraries, kitchens, living rooms, cinema centres and fitness centres choked him.

 

There were just way too many rooms for one person. Wandering around his beloved ship he hoped to find the Ponds (“Williamses! Amy had taken her husband's name! Get this right in your head!” he chided himself.) arguing over something trivial. He wished to hear Amy's piercing voice crying out for him to conciliate between her and Rory the Roman.

 

Really, he had loved his waiting couple. Rory, who had never given up hope and who had bewared the Pandorica for two thousand years, ever loyal, yearning to see Amy again at the end.

 

Amy, whom the Doctor had met as a little girl. He had eaten all the provisions in her kitchen and returned ten years later. Quite patient people and he had lost them, would never travel the stars again with them. He had promised Brian to take them back home — just another lie.

 

Now they had become feed for the angels. Knowing, that they had not died but lived a happy life not appeased the Doctor as much as it should have.

 

He grieved, he sulked and he drowned in self-pity.

 

River was gone as well. Sure, her mind was safe in a computer programme together with the members of her team but she was dead, gone and she had never really been with him.

 

That woman had been a mystery, an enigma from start to finish: head over heels in love with him, then she tried to assassinate him and after all, they ended up being married. Yet, she decided to leave him. River had lived her own life, she had not chosen to become a companion, an appendage; instead she made her own way — mostly without him.

 

When he had asked her to travel with him, she had agreed in the first place but then she had stabbed his hearts by telling him the TARDIS would only be big enough for one psychopath.

 

The ship was certainly big enough for at least three dozen psychopaths!

 

Standing in front of the console, tinkering around and talking about the complexity of wormholes and the damages they could cause to his TARDIS, loneliness overtook him. Nobody was around to admire his wit, to ask questions or hum at least in bored agreement.

 

“The universe does not care whether it's being saved or not, it just rewards you with a kick and mocks you!” he realised in bitterness.

 

He really needed a break, he really needed to settle down and to do....nothing at all. Resting had never really been the Doctor's expertise, so he kept running and travelling, trying to escape the pain.

 

But one day he ended up on a quite rocky planet: the coordinates had once more been set wrong and stepping outside the TARDIS, he saw three happy pterodactyls flying around into a gorgeous sundown.

 

“Oh give me a break,” he gasped out, afraid that if he'd turn around, he would find his younger self and Rose standing on the other side of the cliffs. He could almost hear her voice, promising him “forever”.

 

On this specific day, he decided being finished with the universe. He was alone, the woman he married was a computer programme and the one he should have married had probably died a long time ago after a long, prosperous and tawdrily happy life with his human regeneration.

 

“If other me had had any brain in his head, he would have tossed the TARDIS coral right into the ocean,to live a perfectly ordinary life with the woman of our dreams,” he thought full of regret.

 

Well, the chance to be with Rose had turned up more than once in his life and he had pushed her away three times. The third time, she had decided to stay with his human regeneration.

 

How could he blame her for leaving him for...well - him? Or River for living her own life? Or Amy for choosing her husband over a life in the TARDIS? Or Martha? Or anyone who had left him in his long life?

Sure, the line was sometimes blurry. In Rose's case, not even he could decide whether she had left him, or he had left her, or if there had been a leave at all.

 

He decided to go on a holiday, a really long holiday and he would resign from his universe saving superhero job.

 

Victorian London, that would be his place. Quietness, a cuppa once in a while and a visit to the theatre (though he would have to avoid Charles Dickens) and nothing else.

 

No more friendships, no more love affairs, no more connections, no more broken hearts. No more. “I use the quote “no more” too often, I will use it no more,” he joked mirthlessly.

 

London in 1800. Such a wonderful place! He could not remember happening anything suspicious in the next fifty years or even more. “Perfect for retirement,” he thought while parking his TARDIS in a cloud above the city.


	2. A new case

Being best at something can sometimes be a huge disadvantage. For example when trying to indulge into the pleasures of private life and being constantly interrupted at it.

 

Madame Vastra just returned home to her luxurious London town-house. A scent of tea hung in the air, fresh flowers stood on the little table by the entrance and her sexy human wife was awaiting her with a serious stare. Though, she did not let fool herself. Her lover's eyes sparkled and the hint of a mischievous grin played among her lips, on top, she was wearing this really,really tight velvet silk dress.

 

A promising start into the evening!

 

“So, how about the murderer? Was he local?” Jenny asked curiously.

 

“Depends on the definition of “local”. People would hardly recognise me as “local” though I've been longer around London than the royal family,” Madame Vastra told her snootily.

 

Rolling her eyes in annoyance Jenny scoffed, “If you want to play a deduction game, I'll slip into something more comfortable. You know exactly what I mean when I ask if someone is local.”

 

“Oh, don't you dare. I didn't even start admiring your dress,” Vastra replied seductively, circling Jenny like prey. Taking off her veil, she revealed a reptile's green skin.

 

Ever since Jenny had first laid eyes on the alien woman, she had been lost. To her, Madame Vastra was the most fascinating and beautiful creature in all of creation — and vice versa.

 

The two women's love had never been easy. Victorian London was not known to be open-minded; being lesbian was hard enough. But being in love with a Silurian woman had been enough for Jenny's family to break off contact for good.

 

Not once had Jenny hold that fact against her; the couple lived under cover, sometimes disguised as men, sometimes as women, solving crimes for a living.

 

To Jenny's utter disapproval,Vastra sometimes went out on her own when hunting down especially dangerous killers. The one in question had killed five prostitutes by ripping their throats open with his bare hands and Jenny had been terrified for her wife.

 

“So, was he human?” Jenny repeated her question.

 

“Yes, totally ordinary.”

 

“Not ordinary, I suppose.”

 

The women were silent for a second.

 

“You went alone,” Jenny declared displeased.

 

“Yes,” Vastra shrugged.

 

“Why?”

 

“ I could not have done to him what I did if you had been with me,” she told her with a mischievous smile.

 

Jenny frowned and shook her head.

 

“He might have been a monster but he was tasty,” she précised, liking her lips with a mischievous grin.

 

“You can't drink them! What if the police finds out?” Jenny shouted out angrily but her mood turned as Vastra licked her lips again.

 

“Isn't there something better you could do with that long tongue of yours?” Jenny asked huskily but before the two women had a chance to find out, the doorbell rang. They had no time to react as the door flung open and a third woman came rushing in. Vastra jumped back into a little closet and quickly covered up her face up with a veil while Jenny rushed after the unwelcome visitor.

 

“Who do you think you are? You can't enter without waiting for an invitation!” she hissed irately.

 

“I can, obviously,” stated the other woman coolly while making herself comfortable in the winter-garden.

 

The woman was dressed in black from head to heel. A thick black velvet dress covered her skin completely. The garment was tight around her hips, revealing a delicate, thin figure but each and every inch of skin was covered carefully. Her hands were hidden under leather gloves and her head was invisible under a huge hat.

 

“Please, give me your hat. I will take it to the wardrobe.” Jenny told her impatiently.

 

“No, you won't,” the lady brushed her off harshly.

 

Finally disguised, Madame Vastra entered the room, “I won't take a case, if I don't get to see my client.”

 

“You will,” was the short and firm answer.

 

Vastra smirked, she liked stubbornness; and she liked to crack it even more. “I don't think so. My house, my rules. If you don't show me your face, you may leave — now!”

 

“The great Detective Holmes would never turn down a puzzle. And I promise, I'll be a good one,” the shrouded figure teased smugly and Vastra could hear the grin in her voice.

 

Madame Vastra refused to let on her surprise. “This is future history, there are no books _yet_ written about a detective called Sherlock Holmes. How can you possibly know that?”

 

“Oh, never mind a little book. But that is not what I'm here for: something has been stolen from me and I need you to get it back,” the woman chuckled.

 

“Who are you?”

 

The other woman snorted in obvious amusement. “A name means nothing. The one behind the name is who matters. But you can call me Lady Astrid from the Forest of Fob.”

 

Vastra eyed her full of distrust. “Forest of Fob? Never heard that before.”

 

“It's a German name, forest means “Wald” in German,” Lady Astrid replied lightly.

 

“Forest of lies, that's what you are. I want to see your face, if you expect me to take your case,” Vastra insisted.

 

“You will not see my face,” she declared quietly. “Still, you'll take my case. I know you; you are too curious to turn me down. Besides, my face is not longer worth looking at.”

 

“Let me judge that myself. I'm not interested in beauty but in expressions.”

 

The woman sighed in exasperation while starting to pull off one of her gloves. Her slow movements gave away the pain the simple task caused her.

 

“I have no expressions left on my face, it shows nothing. Please, have a look at my hand and tell me if a face looking like that could reveal anything,” Lady Astrid challenged the lizard.

 

Stepping closer, Vastra examined the hand and the look made her jump back in terror: the skin, no, the flesh, was burnt horribly. Her hand was a mess of grains, pits ans scars. Her skin's colour was an ugly variety of shades from black over violet to red. Pus and blood spilled from the barely healed wounds and Vastra quickly gestured her to cover up her hands again.

 

“My entire body looks like this,” the woman told her numbly.

 

“You should be dead. In this age, nobody should be able to treat you. How could you possibly survive?” Vastra asked in confusion.

 

“That's not your problem,” Lady Astrid snapped back. “Your problem will be to return me my heart.”

 

“Your heart? I hope you don't mean that literally,” Vastra mused intrigued. “What are you?”

 

“Finally, you start asking the right questions,” Astrid answered sarcastically. “What I am, doesn't matter. What matters is, that you start investigating. Go and do your job, spy out some people and bring me back my property.”

 

“I want to know who I work for,” Vastra replied stubbornly.

 

“We all want a lot of things. But don't worry, you'll find out soon,” Lady Astrid declared, handing over a picture. “This is the heart of Astrid. A red ruby shaped like a flower. I has been stolen and I want you and your assistant to get it back for me. As you can see, I am not in the physical state of doing any fieldwork on my own.”

 

Vastra nodded absentmindedly. It would not be challenging to find out who was about to sell a ruby as big as an apple — and only a handful of people were wealthy enough to buy something this precious.

 

Astrid made herself ready to leave as the blood started soaking through her dress.

 

“Your arm, you are bleeding,” Vastra declared lamely.

 

“Hmm, the wounds keep ripping open,” Astrid shrugged nonchalantly but winced slightly at the sudden movement. “As you have already pointed out: I should be dead. I'll expect you to find my treasure. Here's my address.” With these words Astrid dropped a visiting-card on the table and headed towards the door without ever turning back around.

 

“I never said I'd take your case!” Vastra shouted after the leaving woman, snapping out of her thoughts.

 

“You never said you wouldn't,” replied Lady Astrid while vanishing in her carriage.


	3. Of Villains and Heroes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very, very grateful for lovely elensari's help with this chapter :)  
>  It's only worth reading because of her.  
>  However, if you spot mistakes: they are mine.

Villains. Evildoers. Miscreants.

 

 

Have you ever thought about them? They're always defeated in all the good stories – in fairytales; the hero is supposed to be victorious.

 

 

That's the way it should be, isn't it?

 

 

The villain never conquers the hero for one reason: he's a show-off.

 

 

Yearning for admiration, the criminal genius needs a stage. After having made his super-sophisticated, elaborate and deliberate plan to bring the enemy finally to his knees. He wants to gloat – shoving his victory in his opponent's face.

 

 

There's no way of allowing the hero die, without letting him know the reason for his downfall.

 

 

But there's a problem with that sort of behavior: if you give your brilliance away, if you explain your evil master plan, the hero has time.

 

 

Enough time to to escape and turn the tables.

 

 

The next problem that comes with highly sophisticated plans is the following: you need people for the plan to work – and people talk. They give away precious details, and before you know it, your foe predicts what you're up to.

 

 

The successful villain must therefore stick to the following rule: keep it simple and silent. The ultimate result matters. Don't show off, don't be too smart.

 

 

This considered, the Doctor's current enemies had done everything right.

 

 

After complicated plans to exchange the Doctor's companion Amy, for a ganger and turning her daughter into a psycho killer, they now tried another approach. The Silence had spied him out in Victorian London and had hired two men to kill him.

 

 

Up to now, the Doctor had always survived the various encounters with his enemies physically unharmed; leaving them defeated in return.

 

 

But this time, he would not be so lucky, no, not at all...

 

 

The Doctor was only just getting used to doing nothing. He would stroll aimlessly through the city, going to the museum, laughing when the curator got history wrong again, or trying to have a good time at the theatre – ever keeping his distance and wallowing in solitude. 

 

 

Anything else? What for? There simply was no reason to make friends.

 

 

Finally, he had accepted the fact that human lives were fragile, ending within moments compared to his own near immortality. Whenever he was tempted to begin a proper relationship, he would remind himself that in the very next second he could be in a graveyard, reading another loved one's name carved in stone.

 

 

And of course there was this "thing" the Doctor had done: this specific crime on this specific day about four hundred years ago. This crime he refused to face, this crime he fought so very hard to forget.

 

 

He was unable to look at his face in the mirror without being reminded that he was the slaughterer of billions.

 

 

Even if all those deaths had made the lives of so many more possible, even if the universe would have ceased to exist, if he hadn't made this one, impossible decision.

 

 

It always had been unthinkable to counterbalance life with life. How could anyone determine the worth of a living being? Decide if this one is worthier than another?

 

 

If it's only up to you to chose, who may live and who shall die, what does that turn you into? 

 

 

Having sentenced all the Time Lords of Gallifrey and all the Daleks of Skaro to their deaths, the Doctor had become a kind of God – the act had broken the man left behind.

 

 

He regretted that decision – each and every single day.

 

 

Yes, there may not have been another option and yes, the universe would have ceased to exist but still...it wasn't fair being forced to make such choices.

 

 

Every day since, the Doctor told himself that he had done it in the name of peace and sanity.

 

 

The choice he made so long ago, was about to ruin the Doctor's peace and sanity.

 

 

He was oblivious to his surroundings as he exited the theatre tonight. It had been the third time he'd watched Hamlet, despite the fact he knew the play by heart. He might not be a selfish teenage brat but like Hamlet, he had set off an avalanche of death and destruction in his long life; unlike Hamlet, he had always survived his actions.

 

 

Mrs. Somerson, another human he was very fond of but kept at arm's length, followed him closely upon leaving the theatre. The usually entertaining and smart lady annoyed him this evening to new heights with her attempts to introduce him to her unwed daughter; thinking the eccentric man with the ridiculous stovepipe hat would be quite a catch for her girl.

 

 

He shrugged her off politely, once again, only to notice that he was being followed by another woman. There was a female behind him, always maintaining her distance and keeping to the shadows. Her head was hidden under a huge hat, her face covered with a lace veil and a sword poked out under her cape.

 

 

The Doctor focused on his shoes and tried to avoid thinking about the woman's stare. Sure, she must have recognised him - as if Madame Vastra would ever forget him; but he did not want to talk to her. He did not want to explain what had happened to Amy and Rory and he certainly did not want to talk about Demon's Run.

 

 

After having made five turns left and four to the right through dirty little side streets, he was at the backside of a run down tavern. Luckily, the door was only a metal grid and he quickly made his way in with the help of his trusty sonic.

 

Three steps lead him into a wine cellar (wine he would never willingly taste judging by the smell) and from there he sneaked into the tavern's main room where he decided to slip outside - positive Madame Vastra must have lost his track.

 

 

His entire mind was focused on avoiding Vastra and he never noticed the two dirty men tailing after him ever since he left the theatre. Given, the two fellows had a perception filter on them, (a gift from their employer, the Silence) but it usually took more to fool the Doctor.

 

 

Both were dressed in filthy brown suits, covered with the stains of grease, sweat and blood. The one on the left was small and fat but with heavy, muscular arms while the other had an average height and physique. It was the fat man who smashed the wooden bludgeon into the Doctor's face.

 

 

Madame Vastra had not been looking for the Doctor, she had not even known he was in London. The theatre was just one of her best opportunities regarding her newest case.

 

 

Disguised as Lady Harnell, a wealthy widow, she sneaked her way into the grand loge. She spent her evening spreading rumours about the fortune of her late husband and her predilection for exquisite jewels. Of course she had not forgotten to mention that a red ruby would complete her collection and that she would pay any price for a flower shaped ruby. The friendly exchanges had been interrupted abruptly when Vastra had spotted the Doctor in the crowd.

 

In that second, she did no longer cared about Lady Astrid and her ruby, but started observing the Doctor. Fortunately, his ridiculously large hat made the task quite easy. She knew he avoided her, but the two seedy-looking man made her uneasy. The perception filter didn't work on her properly since Vastra always looked for unbidden surprises around that trouble magnet of an alien that she unreasonably fond of.

 

 

Vastra lost track of the Doctor in one of the side streets, but she could not help the strange feeling of foreboding when a carriage made it's way from a tavern to the outbounds of the city a little too quickly.

 

 

The Doctor blinked his eyes painfully open, finding himself in a carriage. Eyesight finally swimming into focus, he realised that he was on his back, staring up into a gun. He also noticed that he had been handcuffed and his face itched from dried blood; he felt dizzy and nauseous. Going out tonight was turning out to be a bad decision.

 

“Would you mind pointing that somewhere else?” the Doctor asked with forced kindness.

 

“Didn't say you could talk, now did I?” responded the fat man. Out of nowhere, he hit the Doctor's jaw forcefully enough to nearly dislocate it, preventing any further attempts of communication.

 

Laughing humourlessly, the man decided to share a bit of information anyway. “You're gonna die, mate. You're not gonna talk yourself out of this one. There will be no negotiation, no chances, nothing. Understood?”

 

“Why?” the Doctor bit out through gritted teeth.

 

“Someone paid us real good for your death,” he shrugged. “Make the best of this trip, mate. Three innocent people are about to make a midnight excursion through the woods. Only two are gonna return.”

 

“Search for the items the Boss wants!” the taller guy yelled back from the driver's seat of the carriage. The Doctor's chaperon jumped into action: ripping open his clothes and tearing the TARDIS-key from the Time Lord's neck before he continued searching.

 

“Got 'em!” he shouted after finding the sonic-screwdriver and just for good measure, he knocked the Doctor out again with a well placed fist to his rather prominent chin.

 

The Doctor woke up when the men dragged him violently out of the carriage into the ice cold winter night. His handcuffs were opened but before the Doctor had any chance to react, the nameless tall fellow cruelly kicked the alien's knee, causing blinding pain and a sickening crunch. “I've been told you're one to run away when the situation starts getting critical. As this would be now, I've allowed myself to take precautions.”

 

Laughing again, the fat one tossed a shovel towards the Time Lord. “Pull yourself together and start digging!” the man hissed. “Let's see how much time you can buy yourself! Go on! Dig! Love it when they dig and hope!”

 

So the Doctor started digging. He could neither talk nor run. Hitting the one man with the shovel wasn't an option either as the second fellow had his weapon trained on his back.

 

For once, he didn't know how to escape; he also didn't know what he should hope for – maybe a quick death? 

 

Lady Astrid liked being able to afford one of the biggest country estates in England; but she did not like intruders - she preferred privacy.

 

When the (decidedly not Victorian) alarm informed her about three men at the outer borders of her estate, she started moving despite the excruciating pain and her bleeding wounds. 

 

She had contacted Madame Vastra and told her about the ruby specifically to force her into the Doctor's path – and still, the Time Lord had ended up on her property, about to be executed. Obviously, if one wanted to get a job done correctly, it had to be done on one's own. 

 

Fantastic.

 

Lady Astrid took off her enormous hat and the wide Victorian skirt. She was now only clothed in a black body suit that compressed her whole body - the special fabric being a substitute for her bruised skin. The white Venetian porcelain mask covering her face always amused her as her current appearance reminded her of Skeleton Jack.

 

Once again, Lady Astrid was grateful for future technology: the teleport took her to the wet hole within a split second. The three injections of morphine she had given herself, made sure Astrid would get through the following minutes.

 

“The grave is deep enough!” yelled the fat man, pushing the Doctor into the wet hole. The impact against his already bruised skull made him black out again and spurred Astrid into action: she jumped up and forward, cutting the tall man's throat without hesitation. Taking the gun from him she turned towards the other one and shot his chest. Piercing the heart precisely, he fell forward from knees to face without a sound, but wearing a startled expression.

 

She couldn't bring herself to feel guilty about the two men's deaths. In fact, she only felt numbness and overwhelming sadness at the sight of the injured man in the pit. Gathering her remaining strength, she lowered herself into the hole next to the Doctor, pulling him into her arms. She took a moment to tap at her teleporter, once again glad for it. In a flash, she'd brought him to safety. Manoeuvring his unconscious and lanky form was difficult, but eventually she managed to get him to a bed so she could tend to his injuries. 

 

“It's always about the Doctor,” Astrid mumbled brokenly as she started to stitch up his wounds, ignoring her own body's demand for rest.


	4. Safe and Sound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my gratitude belongs to the wonderful elensari!!!!   
>  As I've said before:without her, this wouldn't be worth reading.  
>  (I still claim all mistakes)

Ever so slowly, the Doctor's mind drifted back towards consciousness. Bright sun-light was shining in his face, inhaling the scent of magnolias, his hands started exploring soft sheets and fluffy pillows.

 

Wait. There was no sun-light aboard the TARDIS...and his sheet definitely felt different. He gasped and sat up with a jolt in the unknown bed.

 

He took in the unfamiliar surroundings in confusion: he was in a luxuriously, huge bedroom. A gigantic window presented him with a great view of the English countryside, lazy white sheep and bland hills. The ceiling had been painted dark blue with little golden stars, making it look like a human view on the night sky while the walls had been covered with cream-coloured tapestry.

 

What happened? With aching slowness, he started remembering the previous night: Hamlet, Mrs Somerson and her her oddities, hiding from Madame Vastra. No, not hiding. Time Lords would never do something as undignified – rather evading. The pictures of a filthy wine-cellar and two loathsome men popped up in his mind and then? Excruciating pain, a wet pit – a grave. His grave! He had been digging his own grave!

 

He recalled falling into the hole, the softness of the ground and an immense feeling of relief and closure.

 

It had been over – all the pain, all the responsibility, all the choices. No more losses and nothing left to loose. It was all about to end, he had been about to go to sleep – without having to wake up ever again. Finally, the universe was giving him his well-deserved rest.

 

Sleep. He wanted to crawl back into these fluffy pillows and forget who and what he was. Who had interfered again? Who had found him worth saving? Again? Everybody was allowed to die and he was always so _lucky_. 

 

Why, oh why, was he alive and conscious again? Tucked safely away in a giant canopy-bed? And not in the soggy, dark pit where he belonged?

 

Still the last of the Time Lords, then. Still the last of a bloodthirsty race. Still _alive._

 

“ _Then that's your punishment, you are going to live.”_ Who had said these words? Why did he remember them now? He tried to focus on the memory, grasp it, but it escaped like pictures from a fading dream.

 

Pulling the covers back and staring at his knee, he noticed that it was uninjured, and his jaw didn't hurt. Hadn't he been bruised?

 

Someone had dressed him in pinstriped jim-jams; it wasn't the first time he awoke in such clothing and he pushed the memories of these happier times briskly away. Now wasn't the moment for nostalgia.

 

The TARDIS-key! Where was it? Touching his neck, he found the key where it was supposed to be: on a chain dangling between his hearts. A quick glance informed him about the sonic's whereabouts: the precious item was currently lying on the bedside-table.

 

Grabbing it, he started approaching the door but thought better of it. What if all this was just a trap? Instead, he turned towards the window and started climbing out. Sonic between his teeth and one foot dangling in the air, he almost fell when the door was flung open and a tall, elderly man dressed in a frock-coat entered the room.

 

“Sir! Please, consider using the door. You'll find it far more comfortable than the window and my Lady would not want her guest to get hurt under my attendance.”

 

Scrambling back into the room, the Doctor stared at the man in confusion.

 

“And who might you be? My jailer?” he asked somewhat bewildered.

 

“Me, Sir? I am Everett Hughes, the butler. I wanted to inform you, that breakfast will soon be ready and the tailor has just been here with new clothing for you, Sir,” butler Hughes answered formally, while putting a new frock, trousers and shoes at the bed. When he exited the room a second after, he left a pretty dumbfounded Time Lord behind.

 

The Doctor got dressed quickly. The clothing fitted perfectly to his amazement and whoever had made it, had captured his taste perfectly. Newly equipped, he started strolling through the house. The extravagant mansion didn't seemed to be threatening – only empty. He had a feeling as if nobody was really inhabiting the space as no personal items were to be seen anywhere.

 

When he entered the dining room, he was overwhelmed by the great amount of food. Pastries, fish, meat, cabbage, fries, cheese, tea, hot chocolate, sausages, fresh bred and countless other dishes flooded the table.

 

“Whom are we expecting?” the Doctor asked Hughes curiously.

 

“Nobody else, Sir. But my Lady ordered me to treat you well. As she was unsure what kind of food you would prefer in your current body, she asked me to give you a small variety. I hope you'll find something tasty among this selection.”

 

“In my current body?!” The question came out in a slightly high-pitched, strained tone and the Doctor struggled to keep his facial expression in check; but Hughes decided to ignore him.

 

“My Lady took care of your injuries, Sir. Your ribs had been broken, one of your hearts was perforated, your jaw and your knee dislocated and you had a concussion. My Lady almost gave her life to save you. So please, enjoy your meal!” Hughes told him in a polite, yet commanding voice.

 

“How did she fix my injuries so quickly?”

 

“My Lady is capable of many such wonders,” Hughes explained with deep devotion. “My Lady told me you would be her guest as long as you'd wish to stay and I am supposed to fulfil my duties as they shall be taking care of any of your wishes.”

 

“So, well...” the Doctor started scratching his neck awkwardly “that sounds good, I suppose. Where exactly am I?”

 

“You are at Powell Estate, Sir.”

 

The Time Lord winced at this name and gave the man a confused glance.

 

“My Lady bought the Estate from Sir Powell's widow at the occasion of her return from Germany. I am sorry for your loss, did you know Sir Powell well?” the butler explained, mistaking the Time Lord's reaction.

 

“No, I...who is this Lady of yours?” he pressed.

 

“I suppose you should know my Lady better than me. She told me you would be one of her oldest acquaintances. Lady Astrid from the Forest of Fob,” Everett Hughes stated with unhidden reverence. “The most noble person in the universe,” he added in even greater devotion.

 

“I have never heard that name before,” the Time Lord informed him coldly while mentally going through all acquaintances he had ever made in Germany.

 

“My Lady's true name is a secret but she told me you'd figure out her identity eventually. When she returned home, she first came to Germany in 1938. The Forest of Fob near Berlin was her first station.”

 

“There is no Forest of Fob in Germany,” the Doctor informed Hughes slightly annoyed.

 

“Fob is my Lady's wolf, Sir. She found him in the aforementioned forest and since that day, she decided to call the place “Wald von Fob”,” the elderly man said matter of factly, as if these informations were clear as day. “She told me, I'm allowed to tell you that her journey started like the last time; don't ask me though, I don't know what she means by “last time”. She said you'd figure it out.”

 

“Hmm...and from where did your Lady return home?”

 

“I don't know. My Lady never speaks of the dark place and I'd never be so impertinent as to ask unwelcome questions.”

 

“You seem to be very fond of your Lady,” the Doctor replied agitatedly by the poverty of the gained information.

 

“Beware your tone, Sir. I would never allow anyone to insult my Lady. I owe her my life, the life of my wife and child,” Hughes told him earnestly.

 

“Oh, I never would, my friend. I'm just curious – it's sort of my second name. Curiosity, I mean,” the Doctor quickly assured him.

 

“We are victims of the Angels,” Hughes shared. “My family and me – we found ourselves replaced in time. It was a shock. One moment we are living our lives in the 1950s, the next second we are here. Who would have believed us? We had _nothing._ Who could possibly explain what had happened to us? It was a blessing my Lady found us. And ever since, I have tried to prove myself worthy of her; I think my own story, which opened my mind to the wonders of the universe, made it easier to believe what Lady Astrid had been through – for the sake of us all and for you in particular.”

 

“And what would that be?” the time-traveller pressed.

 

“I am not allowed to tell you. And I would never betray my Lady's trust. She's coming to you soon and I fear that day, as I'll never see her again afterwards.” The older man was obviously trying to hold back his tears but didn't quite succeed and the Time Lord frowned in confusion.

 

“Why do you think that you won't see her again?”

 

“I am not allowed to say, Sir,” Hughes replied swallowing a lump down his throat. “Now, please excuse me as I won't answer any further questions about my Lady.” The servant turned and left the Doctor deep in thought.

 

Berlin 1938...he had been there several times, adjusting, mending, fixing history as good as possible. Unfortunately, too many events in this period were fixed and rewriting them would cause havoc...so many had died in those terrible days and he could only think with dread about the horrible regime of terror.

 

In the meantime, Madame Vastra was going mad with worry. She was afraid, that the Doctor was in in danger and that it was him, who had been in this carriage behind the battered tavern. Vastra, a person who trusted her instincts, had spent hours looking for the time-travelling alien and failed to find even the tiniest hint; with her superior biology, that was unusual and alarming. She felt as if she had let him down, betrayed him and if any harm had been done to him under her attendance, she would never forgive herself.

 

“I'm a really great detective!” Vastra thought sarcastically, when she returned home to tell Jenny that she had not only not made any progress in Lady Astrid's case but had also lost the Doctor.

 

Suddenly, a terrifying thought hit her, causing her to freeze in the process of reaching for the door handle: what if Astrid had only sent her out to search for that ruby to distract her? It couldn't be a coincidence, that a woman with advanced future technology showed up the same time the Doctor disappeared, leaving no trace.

 

“Nobody fools me and abducts the Doctor while I'm around,” Madame Vastra told herself in fierce determination while bursting through her entrance door.

 

“Jenny! Get your sword and make yourself ready for battle!” she hissed impatiently. “The Doctor has been abducted and I'm certain it was Astrid.”

 

Fast as lightning, the Victorian housewife Jenny turned into a warrior: seeing her dressed in the tight combat gear, looking like an angel of death, sent shivers down Vastra's spine. The two women jumped into their carriage, making their way towards the address Astrid had given them. Immediately, Vastra started retelling the previous events.

 

“How can you know they will be there?” Jenny asked.

 

“I don't,” Vastra responded. “But it's our only clue.”

 

“Shouldn't we get Strax for help?” she suggested.

 

“The trigger-happy potato?” she snorted. “I'd prefer to get the Doctor out of whatever mess he's in again, alive.”

 

“Vastra?” Jenny breathed seductively, leaning against her in the carriage. “I've missed this, ya know. You and me in our battle suits, armed and at the edge of the unknown.”

 

“I promise, I'll rip that tight thing off your body as soon as that bloody alien is well-off again,” Vastra grinned, licking her lips in anticipation

 

When they reached Powell Estate at half past ten in the morning, the women didn't bother with good manners, driving down the doors with a laser blaster. Poor Hughes, the butler almost had a heart-attack but recovered quickly, returning to his stiffly former self. The servant rushed towards the kitchen to either protect his precious Lady's guest or to make his newest visitors comfortable.

 

“Sir, I want to inform you, we have guests. Are these friends of yours?” he asked the Doctor, who was still seated at the table, enjoying Astrid's hospitality.

 

Entering the kitchen, Jenny and Vastra came face to face with a highly surprised Time Lord, who momentarily pointed a fish finger at Madame Vastra while he bit into his sonic screwdriver.

 

“Oi! That was supposed to be done the other way around. Never mind. Jenny! Vastra! Good to see you! What leads you two here? Come on, join me! I was wondering how I'd ever finish all that food alone,” the Doctor greeted the couple cheerily.

 

The two women where dumbstruck. Lowering their guns hesitantly, they exchanged a glance. When Jenny nodded, Vastra stepped up to the guzzling Time Lord and slapped him right across his face.

 

“Oi, what was that for? Okay, I'm sorry about yesterday. Should have greeted you at the theatre but,” at this point the time-traveller held up his hands, “I was in a really bad mood. Hot chocolate? I have no clue about my host but she's great.”

 

“We thought you had been abducted! Stop pointing greasy fish at me!” Vastra hissed infuriated. Taking a few deep breaths, she tried to slowly calm down.

 

“That's exactly what happened – but Lady Astrid made sure I escaped death once again, dunno if I should thank her for that. Vastra! You should really try fish fingers and bit of custard with it!”

 

“Sir, are these your friends?” Butler Hughes asked bedazzled.

 

“Yes! Friends, Madame Vastra and her wife Jenny,” the Doctor informed him excitedly.

 

“My Lady told me you would be eccentric, Sir. Do you mind if I'd take my leave?”

 

“No, not at all, Everett!”

 

Leaving the three alone, Everett climbed the stairs to his room mumbling, “Fish fingers and custard - and I've been taught to cook in France!”

 

“So, what made you interrupt my breakfast so violently? Is Strax hiding around the corner?”

 

Madame Vastra explained what she had deduced from her encounter with Lady Astrid and from following the Doctor last night. She ended her speech with these words,“I don't like any of this and besides, this place is covered with technology from various centuries. This woman is obviously capable of time travel.”

 

“Of course. There are way too much coincidences,” the Doctor mused intrigued.

 

“I think we should try talking to the butler once more,” Jenny suggested.

 

“I don't think it would help, unless we plan on using torture,” Vastra half replied, half offered, earning a severe stare from the Doctor in return.

 

“I was just thinking out loud,” she said innocently.

 

“Shut up for a second. I have to wrap my head around this: You, Vastra, are distracted by chasing a red ruby. I'm getting abducted, only to be saved in the last second. I'm not getting only healed but I feel better than in ages which could have only been done by Nanogenes, an achievement of the thirty first century. My sonic screwdriver and my TARDIS key have been taken from me but returned...Sorry I don't get it. What would be the point in all that?” he huffed in frustration.

 

“Could she have made a duplicate of the TARDIS-key?” Jenny pondered.

 

“Na, I would sense that,” he shrugged the thought off but all of a sudden, he jumped up and started pacing the room wild-eyed.

 

“Stupid, stupid,stupid! It's so obvious and brilliant! And I'm so thick! But,” he waved his forefinger in the air, “I always get there at the end. Tah!”

 

The two women stared at the mad man with his glowing eyes. The Time Lord was bursting from energy and excitement.

 

“Don't you see it? This is not about me, or my sonic screwdriver. It's about the TARDIS, something that is _inside_ her! Astrid had hours to get into the TARDIS and look for ehm...well, I don't know what she has been looking for. Let's go and find out!”

 


	5. The Things We Find

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my gratitude belongs to the wonderful elensari! Thank you, for your help!

Excitement, curiosity and eagerness were rushing through the Doctor's system when he hurried towards the TARDIS, Jenny and Vastra in tow.

 

He was unusually silent during their journey as the gears in his mind turned faster than any carriage's wheel. Hughes had shared that her true identity would be hidden in her chosen name and he would figure it out. Yet, he still had no clue.

 

Germany. A wolf found in Germany in 1938 called “Fob”...in a “Wald”. The last time he visited the country, River attempted to kill him but thought better of it and spared his life by granting him regeneration energy. Where was the connection? Somehow, he knew the solution was right in front his eyes but he just couldn't _see_ it. 

 

While deep in thought, he realized how much he had missed the thrill of an unsolved mystery and for once, his mind wasn't occupied with the loss of his Ponds. Now, he could push the painful memory away and focus on a puzzle...for a time. The possible threat made him feel alive like nothing else.

 

When they finally reached the ship, they didn't notice any obvious damage or signs of a break-in. The TARDIS looked untouched – just like he'd left her hours ago.

 

Vastra frowned and tightened her grip on her sword, shoving Jenny behind her with her free hand. She didn't want to take any risks and made sure to stay close behind the Doctor when they entered the time-ship. “Do you have any idea what could be missing?” she asked the Doctor, taking in the interior suspiciously.

 

“Not yet. I keep a lot of things in here,” the Doctor stated lightly, but in a tone that made it clear that he wouldn't be going into the detailed nature of his possessions. His tense posture however betrayed him. Suddenly, he launched into action and started running around, rummaging through mysterious boxes and throwing things from one side to another - the chaos was profound within seconds.

 

“Doctor. Doc-toor. Doctor!!” Vastra yelled at him, slightly annoyed by his unstable behaviour. That wouldn't do – they'd be searching the ship for ages like that.

 

“What is it now?!” he hissed back in frustration.

 

“Isn't this ship telepathically connected to you?” she arched a challenging eyebrow at him, forcing him to focus.

 

“Yes. And?” he snapped back in obvious confusion, stopping still in his tracks.

 

“Wouldn't it be easier if you asked your ship if someone has been here? You are telepathically connected, aren't you?” the reptilian lady reminded him.

 

The Doctor froze and gaped at her, scooting his hands through his thick hair as he twiddled with his bow-tie to calm his racing hearts down. Closing his eyes, he reached out for Sexy, asking her for assistance.

 

“That's odd. That is really, really odd,” the Doctor muttered, pacing the room and clearing up bits and bobs as he went.

 

“Doctor?” Jenny asked hesitantly.

 

“Nothing!” he growled. “Nothing, nothing, nothing! The TARDIS tells me no one has been here. Nothing has been taken. I don't understand,” he sighed.

 

In the meantime, Jenny dropped down onto the jump seat. She was slightly annoyed and exhausted from a night without sleep. Vastra and the Doctor could stay up for hours without a rest, but she was human. Worrying for her wife and chasing the time-traveller had taken it's toll on her. It appeared to be nothing but false alarm. Was it all just a tasteless prank?

 

Staring at the console, Jenny started to doze off. Only half awake, she tried to figure out what purpose all the blinking lights might have.

 

One light stood out in particular, catching her attention. Straightening herself in the jump-seat she tried to shrug off the sleep and focus: this special light was brighter than the others. It's colour, a deep red, was more vivid than anything she had ever seen before in her life. The shining beacon enthralled her, sucked her in. Soon, forgotten memories of her childhood surfaced – beautiful memories full of joy and happiness embraced her, making her giddy with joy. It seemed, as if every positive feeling she ever had came back to her at once.

 

After a few seconds, the red light turned even brighter, and Jenny lost her grip on reality; she wasn't in the TARDIS anymore but in a place that only consisted of pure, unspoiled love. She relived the first time she saw her wife's true and perfect face, their first kiss, the joy of consummating their feelings for each other. The poignancy of her emotions enveloped her, and she was certain the bliss would never end – would last forever, never cease and never be spoiled.

 

All of a sudden all of the lights went out and Jenny was falling into bottomless darkness, feeling an all-consuming, horrifying loss. The wonderful feeling of love was ripped from her and all that remained was _pain_. There was no light – and she _knew,_ there would never be light again and yet, she _hoped_. It was unbearable but she stayed strong and soldiered on, kept running through that darkness to _save, save,save, save_...but whom? 

 

Snapping back into reality, Jenny screamed at the top of her lungs, “Save him!” Panting heavily, sweat dripping from her forehead, Vastra's concerned, terrified face swam into focus. Never had she seen the strong soldier she loved so unconditionally that petrified.

 

“I thought I had lost you!” Jenny exclaimed, gripping her wife's hand tightly and holding on to her for dear life. “Never leave me, never leave me,” the young human begged frantically, almost chanting, squeezing Vastra's body so tightly, the other woman groaned out in pain.

 

“Jenny! Jenny! I am here. I'm not going anywhere, Jenny, I promise,” Vastra vowed desperately, rocking the love of her life gently in her arms. Tears brimmed hotly in her eyes while she tried to figure out what had possibly been the cause of Jenny's outburst.

 

Madame Vastra was barely able to calm Jenny down. Her young wife had turned from a warrior into a sobbing wreck within seconds. Finally, from pure exhaustion, Jenny passed out on Vastra's lap.

 

“What the hell do you keep in this ship! What just happened?!” Vastra exhaled angrily, only the weight of Jenny's limp body kept her from throwing herself at the man who was in possession of whatever had inflicted that terror on her precious human.

 

The Doctor's eyes darkened as he started searching the console. A brief examination had persuaded him of Jenny's well-being; she would wake up soon, unharmed. “I'd love to know myself. She was staring at that spot all the time, right?” he asked without waiting for an answer. His sonic buzzed to life as he held it out like a wand.

 

“Oh! Hello you little beauty,” he said softly. The Doctor was bent over something on the console, blocking Vastra's view effectively with his back.

 

“Doctor, what is it?” she demanded impatiently.

 

“I guess, I have just detected what you were supposed to find, great detective. Please, come over here Vastra; but don't look directly into it's light. Something is wrong with it.” He was holding up a slightly rose-shaped, red ruby; the item was about the size of a fist.

 

Disentangling herself carefully from Jenny, Vastra stepped over for an examination. “Lady Astrid's ruby!” she gasped out in astonishment.

 

“Ah, this is not a ruby,” the Doctor told her thoughtfully. “It is hard as a diamond, though...but according to the scanner's results this thing is organic,” he explained with unhidden excitement.

 

“You mean this _thing_ is actually alive?” Vastra asked shocked, remembering Astrid's words about the ruby being her heart. At that time, Vastra didn't think she meant the words literally.

 

“Exactly,” he nodded, eyes fixed on the scanner.

 

Madam Vastra frowned but than her confusion was replaced by pure rage as she glanced back at Jenny's sleeping form, and she declared, “This thing is dangerous, we should destroy it!”

 

Flashing her a bright grin that did not quite reach his eyes, the Doctor disagreed. “Now, where would be the fun in that? I have the perfect box to keep this little jewel safe, don't worry.”

 

Disappearing under the almost endless depths of the console, the Doctor produced a wooden box. The obviously antique item was decorated with delicate clockworks and a complicated mechanism made sure unwanted hands wouldn't reach it's content.

 

Placing the “ruby” into the box, the Doctor turned towards Vastra and said, “Now, I really, _really_ want to meet this Lady Astrid, and what better opportunity is there, than to return her alleged property?!”

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. The Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wouldn't be worth your time without the help of my wonderful beta-reader elensari!  
> Thank you, my dear!

Leaving Jenny behind in the safety of the TARDIS, the Doctor and Vastra decided to head back to Lady Astrid's property. The green-skinned woman could only barely contain her fury and her hands played impatiently with her sword's pommel. The Doctor managed to keep his cool demeanour but inwardly, he too was raging.

 

How dare this obnoxious woman play games with him? How dare she toy with his friends well-being? He wanted nothing more than to strip off her mask, unravel her identity and go back to his silent life. Of course, she was a fascinating mystery and his fingers itched, his skin tingled with the anticipation of unraveling it, but Jenny's unconscious form in the TARDIS reminded him about the price his curiosity could cost him. Again, it hadn't been him who was hurt, but someone he cared about. His decision to hide from the universe had been right and he would go back to it, as soon Astrid wasn't a threat anymore.

 

He seethed inwardly as he thought about the fact that his mere presence had endangered poor Jenny. There wasn't a place he could stay without bringing death and destruction to the ones he was fond of. His Ponds were misplaced and died because of him, Donna lost her memory, Martha wandered the Earth without hope, River sacrificed herself - and his Rose? Oh his Rose...she came so far and endured so much to protect his future and he left her behind. He wondered is she was happy, living the fantastic life she deserved, but somehow, he knew she wasn't. When Donna's mind couldn't contain the meta-crisis, he feared his human self would suffer the same fate. Had she only found him, to watch him die? He was poison to every individual he touched, utter venom, the destroyer of lives. He wouldn't let _anyone_ suffer on his behalf again.

 

Closing his eyes briefly, he thought about the planet of the pterodactyl's. Maybe he should stay there? He could become a hermit and dream about the past. With a little help from the TARDIS, he could even stay in the past, reliving every single beautiful moment of his life again and again. He could relive the one perfect day he once shared with Rose until he couldn't distinguish between dream and reality. He could forget the Time Lord's and their War, could forget his Ponds' death and drift off into the endless depths of his mind. The TARDIS would block the horrid memories and he could sleep until his dying day. That way, he would never harm his friends again.

 

“Lord Doctor!” Hughes clipped voice startled the Time Lord from his solemn thoughts. Vastra pulled her sword immediately and shot Lady Astrid's butler an infuriated glare.

 

“You and your _Lady_ didn't succeed!” Vastra told him arrogantly. “The Doctor is well off and the weapon you hid for us to find has been neutralised!”

 

Hughes stared at the odd couple coming down a ladder out of the sky with a reserved expression. “I can assure you, Madam,” he replied coldly, “my Lady had no intentions to harm you or your wife. If I may speak for myself: you have so far only showed rudeness and bad manners and I don't understand my Lady's fondness for either of you. But alas, she has a message; My Lady wants to meet you at the estate this evening.”

 

Without waiting for the Doctor's reply, Hughes turned on his heel and stalked off without a second look.

 

Vastra and the Doctor were more than just slightly surprised. It never occurred to them that finally meeting the mystery woman, would turn out to be so easy – they were immediately suspicious. Exchanging a look, they came to a silent understanding and started heading for Vastra's carriage. Suddenly, the Doctor stopped in his tracks and turned towards Vastra. “I don't want you to come with me. I don't trust this so called Lady Astrid and I'd feel better, if you stayed in the TARDIS with Jenny.”

 

“Don't argue with me, Doctor,” Vastra replied, still playing with her sword's pommel. “Astrid made this business very personal and there is no way I'll stay back and let you face her alone!”

 

“I don't want to endanger you, Vastra. Go home with Jenny.”

 

“You wish I would!” Vastra almost shouted. “I'll have her for what she did to Jenny!”

 

“You're not being rational! You're angry and you want revenge – it makes you vulnerable and we don't know what to expect,” the Doctor tried to reason with her, but Vastra was not having any of it and marched stubbornly on.

 

“You, Doctor, are trying to face all the dangers alone - _again_. Did it ever cross your mind, that distancing yourself from people and not involving your friends into your business is the reason you lose the ones you care about?”

 

Vastra's accusation stung and they made the rest of their way to the estate in silence. The Doctor busied himself with staring out of the window while enduring the bumpy ride – at least he wasn't shackled and being threatened with execution this time. Usually, he would insist on Vastra staying behind, would trick her, or sneak off. But he was tired – so tired of his existence and he couldn't find the strength within him to fight her decision. Closing his eyes, he waited for the journey to end.

 

As the mansion came into view, the Doctor felt his anger building and a bit of self-pity sneaked into his hearts. Didn't he deserve a rest? Why would the universe not let him stay in his chosen exile?

 

Covering his tiredness with arrogance, the Doctor strolled into the house as if he owned the place, Vastra close behind, her hand clenched tightly around her sword's hilt.

 

They found Astrid in the library. It was a welcoming, bright room decorated with pictures of several planets between the gigantic mahogany book-shelves. Soft rugs and carpets muffled his steps and he wondered if Astrid really would turn out to be a villain. The warm and cosy room didn't fit the mental image his mind had created around Astrid.

 

The Doctor recognised a painting of the ice-world “Woman Wept” and fought the urge to have a better look. He knew every single place shown in the paintings, and if his mind wouldn't have been so occupied with the mystery ahead, he would have noticed that all of them showed a tiny white wolf in the corner.

 

The Lady was all alone and the sight of the thin woman, huddled in a wing-chair next to the fire-place, tamped his temper. Her face was covered with a white porcelain mask, her body hidden under several black Victorian layers. A tea-set was sitting on a small table in front of her and even lifting her cup, seemed to be a tremendous effort for the bleak figure.

 

Yet, the Time Lord wasn't ready to break his haughty demeanour. He walked into the room and seated himself face to face with Astrid, Vastra stayed behind him as he propped his feet onto her coffee table, placing them deliberately on a first edition of Dostojewski's the Gambler.

 

“There's no need to be acting like that, Doctor,” Astrid told him amused as she pulled the book from under his feet. “But I guess being rude and not ginger is the tragedy of your life, isn't it?”

 

His head snapped up and his eyes narrowed at her remark. Yet, he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of enough time to react.“The mystery woman has finally decided to give me the honour,” he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. “How do you know me so well, Lady and I don't know you at all?

 

“I've told you my name,” she replied, tilting her head, “you just didn't piece the puzzle together. Hughes told you everything you needed to figure out my identity.”

 

“Rubbish!” he shrugged her off impatiently. “Astrid – if _that_ is your real name, I want to inform you, that you made a very big mistake. You may mess with me, even try to kill me, but I want to make one point very clear to you: you never, ever harm my friends.” His voice was deep and threatening as he spoke but Astrid didn't even flinch. Her dark eyes observed him calmly as she leaned back in her chair and sipped her tea.

 

“What makes you think I wanted to harm you? Stitching up your wounds? Dragging you out of the pit? Welcoming you to my home as my guest?” Astrid shook her head and leaned back as the Doctor's fists clenched tightly. The unreadable woman unnerved him, he couldn't see her expressions under the porcelain mask and he wondered if he should just rip the bloody thing off.

 

“Just show me your face! End this ridiculous charade and tell me what you want,” the Doctor replied in a cold voice.

 

“It's not me who's putting up a charade, Doctor,” Astrid replied calmly. “I'm not the one who's hiding – in Victorian England of all places,” she snorted. “What happened, Time Lord, that you feel the urge to settle down all alone? Where are your companions? Where's your fire? What happened to the Doctor? The universe still needs mending.”

 

Just as the Doctor was about to speak again, Vastra launched herself forwards, holding her sword at Astrid's throat. “You,” she hissed, “distracted me, sent me on a journey through London, abducted the Doctor and placed your weapon in his TARDIS. Your little mind-games almost killed my wife and I will have my revenge on you!”

 

“A weapon?!” Astrid laughed out loud. “It's not a weapon. At least, it was never meant to be. But look, Vastra.” The enshrouded lady was holding up her teaspoon. “You would never regard this spoon as a weapon, but in the wrong hands, even a spoon can be deadly. It's up to you to decide, how you use the things you are given. And in this case, it was never my decision. The heart you found in the TARDIS is not mine. It always was and always will be the Doctor's property. It's up to him to control it's power. It's purpose is to heal, to mend. It shows, what your heart holds dear and helps you - protecting it, but it can be a weapon – if you chose to make it into one.”

 

“Lies!” Vastra hissed back. “I'll have your head!” And with these words, Vastra pushed her sword's tip into Astrid's flesh. The Doctor moved in an half-hearted attempt to hold her back but it was already to late, blood trickled down her throat, but the dark Lady didn't seem to mind.

 

Astrid remained in her position, only turning her head towards the lizard woman, causing the nick to become a gash that bled more freely. Vastra's eyes widened in astonishment and a flicker of insecurity crossed her features, but it wasn't enough to quench the fire of her vengeance.

 

“You want to kill me? Go on, then! Do it! My life is painful, my flesh hurts every single second! Countless creatures have tried taking my life and they all failed! Nothing can erase my life as long as I've not fulfilled my promise, my _vow_ I gave the universe when I became time's conscience!” The woman's voice was getting louder and louder as she spoke and she stood to her full height, as the sword stayed always trained at her throat but she acted as if she didn't even notice. “I've drowned myself in the ocean when faith decided to rip my heart from my chest, I've been thrown through the walls of the universe, I've endured the endless howling of the merciless void. I've been to places and back from such darkness, you can't even imagine and I'm still alive. Pocket your little toy, lizard lady for this ridiculous piece of metal can't even scratch the surface of the Bad Wolf!”


	7. Pterodactyl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the best and most patient Beta-reader in the entire world: elensari. We worked very hard on that chapter and despite better knowledge, I didn't follow all her advice (so whatever displeases you about this chapter is ultimately my doing)  
> So my lovely readers: enjoy that story and then go to elensari's page and read some more!

Time seemed to slow down as a grave-like silence fell. The Doctor's face froze into a mask as unreadable as Astrid's porcelain face. He rose painfully slowly to his full height and approached Astrid. Raising his arm, he pushed the tip of Vastra's sword out of his way and from the disguised woman's throat. Backing Astrid up against the book-shelf, the oncoming storm brewing in his eyes, he studied her intensely. Not turning, he spoke to Madame Vastra. “Leave us,” he said in a barely audible, yet commanding voice.

 

Vastra wouldn't shift. She stayed firmly rooted to the spot, hands still firmly clasped around her weapon and ready to strike again at any second.

 

“Vastra, leave us,” the alien man repeated, a bit more forcefully but again, the green-skinned woman wouldn't budge.

 

“ _Leave us alone_!” the Doctor finally yelled out loud.

 

When Vastra made to protest, he spun around and fixed her with his stare. “Don't make me repeat myself again,” he hissed, and the Silurian swallowed hard. With a quick nod of acquiescence, a confirmation she wouldn't be far, she exited the library.

 

The Doctor turned his attention back to Lady Astrid and caging her between his body and the book-shelf, his face only inches away from hers, he almost conversationally said one word. “Liar!”

 

Distractedly wiping the blood from her collar, Astrid made an amused sound in response, something between a huff and a snort and retorted, “Says the king of liars.” Even with her back against the wall, Astrid refused to be intimidated by the Time Lord. Standing her ground, she glared unaffectedly back at him from under her mask. The Doctor took a step back and studying her dark eyes, he finally released her. Crossing the library back to his chair, he gracefully sat back down in front of the fire-place.

 

“Don't ever, ever think you're capable of playing with me. You have no idea what “Bad Wolf” means, what it means to me. And if you think you can use her against me, I will show you no mercy.” He never raised his voice as he spoke, his tone was almost light but his face betrayed the gravity of Astrid's situation. “Don't ever debase _her_ name in my presence,” he added, eyes never leaving her face and giving her a small glimpse of the power swimming in them.

 

“I think, _Doctor_ ,” Astrid replied tilting her head and still not appearing the slightest bit impressed, “it's too late for that. I have already debased my name countless times.”

 

“End this ridiculous charade and tell me who you are and what you want,” the Doctor hissed as his body tensed.

 

“Who I am?” Lady Astrid asked with a tiny snort. “I don't know anymore!” She started pacing the room, walking up and down in front of the Doctor's seat. “The person I used to be died such a long time ago and this new me? This _thing_ I became?” Turning towards the Doctor she shrugged helplessly. “But what about you, _Time Lord_? Do you know who you are? You used to be the _Doctor?_ Who are you now? You forgot your own name!” she accused.

 

“And you're the one to remember me? Is that it?” he scoffed.

 

“Once, I thought I could be that person,” she replied sadly. “But now? I'm the Lady from the Forest of Fob, the one whose story repeats itself.”

 

“Care to share with the class?” he asked sarcastically. “Why this name, _Lady_?”

 

She shrugged, “like Hughes said: because of the little wolf I found in the forest near Germany. He wore a little collar around his neck and it said “Fob”. The words “Fob” and “Wald” form the words Bad Wolf if you reorganise the letters.”

 

“Finally we're heading somewhere,” the Doctor bit out. “What happened in Germany?” he demanded to know.

 

“You died,” Astrid stated simply and the Doctor gaped as her words, caught off guard. Leaning back against the book-shelf, she clarified, “River, she killed you.

 

“River obviously didn't kill me,” he snapped back as he regained his composure.

 

“Yes, she did,” the lady replied. “It wasn't her original intention to give you her regeneration-energy. She had been ultimately created to kill you. The Silence created her to end your life and that she did.” After a short pause, Astrid explained further, “if River would have never met her parents, if you wouldn't have found her, Amy would have never been able to convince her to save your life. A River who never met her parents killed the Doctor, a River who went to school with her mum and dad chose to save the Doctor.”

 

Clenching and unclenching his fists he tried to interrogate her casually but his voice came out strained. “What is _your_ connection with River?”

 

“You would have never found her if not for me,” the porcelain-faced lady replied succinctly. “River needed a “turn-left”, too.”

 

“Like Donna?” the Doctor questioned incredulously, hope and fear blooming equally in his chest. Hope, that this woman might be the one she claimed to be, and fear, that she might indeed be the one she claimed to be. However, incredulity won out. She _couldn't_ be her – his Rose. It wasn't possible and rage burnt in his veins, filled his entire being like hot liquid and grabbing her arm, he yanked her towards him, causing her to gasp in a pained breath as he clutched her battered body too forcefully.

 

“Prove it,” he spat, as they stood face to face. “Prove it! The one you claim to be would never have to hide from me; She _never_ would.”

 

Lady Astrid trembled and hot, salty tears streamed down her face under the white mask, soaking her collar and she sounded utterly defeated when she asked him, “How could I have returned to you like  _this_ ? You want proof?” Swallowing heavily, she pulled her arm from his grip.

 

“The very first word you ever said to me was: “run”, she said. “ Not once did you tell me to stop – and I didn't. I never stopped running my entire life.” She paused, massaging her temples, before moving back to her chair where she sat down and gripped her teacup. Astrid looked like she needed something to hold onto.

 

“I saved your life the first time because I was a gymnast at school. Bronze medal, remember? Our first date: we had chips and you showed me the end of the Earth. You showed me how it burnt and Cassandra held us all hostage,” she rushed on without taking a breath. “You always wanted to show me Barcelona, the planet not the city, but we never made it there, even though you mentioned it twice: before and after your regeneration. We met Cassandra, the last human again on New Earth, in New New New York. Before, we had a picnic on the apple grass. She took control of my body and when she released me...I almost collapsed but _you_ caught me. We where looking at each other and you said.... ”

 

“Hello,” the Doctor said shakily. “I said hello.”

 

“Hello,” She croaked out, laughing and crying at once.

 

“It's really you,” he whispered and leaning towards her, his fingers stroked the shiny surface of her mask. Weeping silently he begged, “Please, let me see you.”

 

Taking his hand gently she shook her head. “I can't.”

 

“After so many years...you came back...,” his voice broke and tugging nervously at his bow-tie he queried, “How? Why?” Again, his fingertips hovered above her mask as he stood in front of her, unable to move at all.

 

“Please. Don't,” she pleaded as she flinched away from his touch. “Doctor, my Doctor,” Astrid uttered and when she spoke his name he finally felt it was her. “Neither the how nor the why really matters,” she told him.

 

“What happened to my precious girl? My pink and yellow human?” he finally whispered, his voice muffled with tears.

 

Laughing out loud she answered, “What happened? The Wolf happened. I _am_ the Bad Wolf. I always was and will be. My vow brought me back to you. My Doctor stopped mending the universe, so I came to mend my Doctor.” Taking hesitant steps, she moved to stand in front of him, continuing. “Why did you stop? Why are you staying in this lonely place? What happened to _you,_ my Doctor,” she pressed, raising a hand to cup his jaw.

 

“I lost the right to be a Doctor,” he told her earnestly, resuming his pacing. “I killed my patients, failed to save them. So many have died at my hands. I sent them all to hell. All the Time Lords and Ladies of Gallifrey, my best friends, my own _wife –_ they all died and it was my doing. It all became too much...whatever and whomever I touch, I poison. I had to stop ruining what I hold dear,” he trailed off, sitting back down and rubbing his face wearily. 

 

“You used to run faster, used to run until the pain subsides,” she argued.

 

“I landed at the wrong place one day,” he confessed, glancing at her through the fingers of his right hand. “You remember the day you promised me your forever? I accidentally landed on the planet of the pterodactyls again and I remembered...oh I remembered. And how it hurt! Knowing how much happiness I used to have, even after the war and how it was all burned to dust. Everything is gone and lost, nothing ever returns and I...I wished...I wished to freeze time, wished to be frozen in time.”

 

Closing his eyes and biting back a strangled sob he asked, “What happened to you?”

 

“Too much,” she answered curtly. “I've made a vow and keeping it cost me dearly. But soon, I will have fulfilled my promise.”

 

“You need my help?” the Doctor asked, mentally preparing himself, ready for any battle. For her, he would be strong again. He would leave London, he would fight every demon and walk through the burning fires of hell itself if she wanted him to.

 

“No, my Doctor,” she paused. “You need mine – but everything in it's time. Do you still have the heart?” she demanded to know, and he nodded as he produced the box from his trans-dimensional pocket.

 

“This heart is my gift to you. _You'll_ never have to fear it and believe me when I say it was never meant to be a weapon. This heart is filled with emotion, it shows what your hearts holds dear; what's most important to you. It gives hope, that's what it was designed for.”

 

“How does it work?”

 

“Just hold it, but don't look directly into the light – else it overwhelms you.”

 

Taking it gingerly from it's wooden prison, he held it on his outstretched palm. The sensation started with a little prickle and his skin warmed slightly – it felt good: like a soft embrace, like being wrapped up in blankets, like being kissed on the corner of your mouth after basking an entire day in the sun: a soft, hot wetness on warmed skin. It felt like sweetness and soothing, like promises and whispered words of adoration.

 

Looking up, Lady Astrid was gone. She had vanished in the blink of an eye, and instead  _she_ was standing there in all her glory. His goddess in the flesh had finally found her way back to him and oh! she smiled. She beamed that smile that put burning super-novas, exploding stars and rising empires to shame.

 

“Rose. My Rose,” he whispered wide eyed. Then and there he thought he would never tire of her sight again. Seeing her after all these years made him realize how his emotions for his one true love had never lessened, never faded – he had only buried them deep down in his hearts to protect himself from the pain. Rory, the human-ish Auton had loved Amy for two millennia, ever patiently awaiting her return. So how could the feelings of an eternity-walking Time Lord ever lessen?

 

“Don't let go of my heart. You have to hold it. Promise me. I don't want you to see what I've become. I will remain undamaged to your eyes as long as you're holding it,” Rose admonished.

 

“I won't,” he assured her as he stood up to approach her. Leaning towards her and dipping his head he pressed a soft, chaste kiss to her full, pink lips.

 

“What happened to other me?” he asks quietly, wanting to know and Rose closed her eyes as if she wanted to stop the memory from returning.

 

“His mind burnt. Just moments after you left, he left too,” she admitted finally. “I couldn't stop it.”

 

“Oh Rose...I'm so sorry. I should have known,” he replied, catching her lips for another kiss.

 

“I gave up,” she stuttered out between his kisses.

 

“I'm sorry,” he repeated. Growing bolder, his tongue slid along the seam of her lips and with a soft sigh, she allowed him entrance. Overwhelmed by the sensation of finally having her back, after having denied his feelings for her for centuries, he felt desire rushing through his body from head to heel and he pulled her too forcefully towards his own body. Something was wrong, she didn't feel right to his touch, she didn't respond to his kiss like she did in his imagination countless times, but the greedy, lonely Time Lord couldn't bring himself to stop. Unable to let got, he only loosened his grip when Rose yelped helplessly in pain. Snapping out of his haze the Doctor dropped her heart to the floor.

 

As he lost his grip on it, Rose's real face became visible: her flesh changed from purple to green, red and even black. Not an inch of her once beautiful face was undamaged. Her soft pink lips were no more and with horror and dread he noted that he had kissed a burnt crust.

 

Rose covered herself with her cape in one swift motion. Directing an infuriated glare at him she shouted, “I trusted you!”

 

Face buried in his hands, the Doctor sobbed without restraint, “I am sorry. I am so, so sorry. I...” Dropping to his knees, he reached for the fabric of her black dress, drawing it to his lips and kissing it reverently. He dared not touch her again, for he knew now, that even the slightest caress brought unthinkable pain.

 

“You have seen me,” Rose choked out. “Will you let me fulfil my vow?”

 

Still on his knees the Time Lord nodded. There wasn't anything left he would ever deny her. Something told him that it was his fault she “lived” in this unending agony.

 

“Doctor, do you still trust me?” Rose demanded to know gravely.

 

“Yes,” he replied firmly.

 

“You have to be sure,” she insisted.

 

“I am.”

 

“There is a place. I want you to follow me.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	8. Godsend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even vocalize how grateful I am for elensari's help. Her care and insight made this chapter worth reading.  
> Thank you very, very much, elensari!  
> (Oh! And you guys should go and check out her stories!!!! She's a brilliant writer and you're missing something if you don't get acquainted with her work!)

"Doctor?" she asked softly, fixing him with her fiery eyes. "Do you still trust me? Would you still run with me? Even after all these centuries?"

"Of course," the Doctor replied too hastily, too eagerly.

Rose shook her head disapprovingly. “I need you to be certain, Doctor. You will be given a choice and only a strong will and firm belief will help you do the right thing. There's a gift I want you to have, but I can't give it without your trust.”

He tugged on his bow-tie and started toying with his floppy hair, considering her words. But there really wasn't any doubt in his mind. She was still Rose and he was still the Doctor. “My life is in your hands,”he finally answered, a more genuine smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Doctor, touch the heart again. Rest your fingertips on it and tell me what you feel. I want you not only to _know_ but to _feel_ what this ruby is.”

He nodded, mouth set into a tight line as he scanned the room for the lost treasure. Getting down on his hands and knees, he crawled over the wooden floor. Finding his prize, he pressed his long body under the narrow coffee-table, reaching out for the stone he'd dropped so carelessly earlier.

“Wait!” Rose admonished before his bare hands could come into contact with it. “Use a cloth.”

The Doctor obeyed without protest. Fumbling around in his pockets he finally produced a handkerchief and gingerly picked up the little red heart.

“Tell me what you feel,” Rose pressed him urgently as he got up, the stone, enshrouded in the cloth, sitting safely on his outstretched palm.

“It's warm...,” he started. Closing his fist around the ruby he spoke on, “It's vibrating, pulsing, even. It feels..like...like...holding...The last time I felt like this I was holding your hand, Rose Tyler.” He finished, swallowing down a lump in his throat.

They were standing face to face, next to her little table, gazing at each other, trying to read the other's thoughts like all those centuries ago when they could talk to each other only through gestures.

“That's my heart,” she whispered. “Beating over and over, just for you, for such a very long time.”

The words filled him with dread. Suddenly his trust wavered and cold agony gripped his heart. The woman before him was still Rose, yet something new, ethereal and he knew nothing about the centuries they had spent apart and deep down in his heart he knew what had caused her fate. A thought he would later be ashamed of crossed his mind: he feared Rose would want revenge for the events on the Game Station. What else if not “Bad Wolf,” was the reason for her immortality combined with his blindness regarding her altered state?

As he vibrated, ready to bolt, ready to scramble away in fear and doubt, she entwined their fingers to steady him. “This all ends today, okay?” she half asked, half stated and he could only nod. After all it was still Rose – he couldn't deny her anything.

Abruptly, there was a flash of golden light, and the world spun out of her axis. Time wasn't in sync with him any longer and he felt as if he'd fallen sideways through the universe. Just as quickly as the feeling started it ended again and he felt cold, hard ground beneath his feet.

Taking a deep breath he took in their surroundings and paled instantly. He knew this place and dreaded it. Now, he thought he knew what she wanted. After all, he was a Time Lord, the only being in the universe able to regenerate, to bring back life and she...

Good God, she was alive but somehow she wasn't, at the same time. Was that what she wanted? A cure to her endless pain? A pain he was the source of?

Looking deeply into his eyes, she said simply,"Today." And he could only nod, his mouth dry.

"You don't trust me," she stated as she watched him standing next to her, eyes wide in fear, trembling like a branch in the wind.

"Why did you bring us here, Rose?" He choked the words out, already certain of the answer but unable to stop himself, or her.

“I told you, I have a gift,” Rose answered confidently as she tugged him along the pathway. Countless graves framed their way, each holding the name of a beloved, lost, and precious person. She walked past them, not even batting an eye at the names. Soon, the dust that constantly hung in the air would cover their dark clothes with the airborne remains from the long ago battle.

There, in the distance was his TARDIS – but she wasn't, not any longer. She was an abomination, the distended shell of the sizzling, vibrating time-ship that had never failed him throughout the centuries of his long life. She was dying, starting to get bigger on the outside, twisting her core outward. Seeing her thus, hot, salty tears pricked his eyes.

“Rose,” he choked out. “I think I know now. Why you brought me here and I want you to know..it's alright. I'll surrender. You can take my life – if you need it, if it heals you...I will...I'm willing..I--”

“Doctor!” she interrupted him quickly, her voice thick with confusion. Spinning around to face him, Rose says, “I don't understand.”

“My regeneration energy, my last life – you can have it. If it heals you, if it's what you want you can have it,” he vowed as he stopped still in his tracks, caressing one of the tomb-stones, almost longingly. “My Ponds were gone and I surrendered, hid on Earth and gave up being the Doctor. It's a relief, you know, that it's _you_ who comes to be with me in the end.”

He paused and sucked in a breath, turning to face the last person he ever expected to see in that place, “Rose... I never told you, never finished my sentence, but I want you to know that I always l--”

“Stop it!” Rose hissed infuriated. Glaring daggers at him under her mask, she spits out, "Do you really think I would _ever_ demand your death? I never wanted you to die _for_ me but to live _with_ me. Dying is so _easy,”_ she scoffed. “Dying is giving up and I'm not _ever_ giving up. You used to put your life at stake every single day to safe others. But you never really lived, you always awaited death!" Anger tinged her voice and squaring her shoulders she marched on, always towards the TARDIS.

"Now that would have been a challenge for you, wouldn't it? _Living –_ at another person's side, " she tossed scathingly over her shoulder, her hurt and frustration evident in her tone and the angry stamping of her feet.

“I'm still me – a coward every day,” he breathed apologetically, following after her up the hill.

Rose stopped in her determined march. Sighing, the anger leaves her and she lets her head hang down. “You didn't really understand the prophesy in the Satan's pit all those years ago, did you? My death wasn't a threat but a chance, a promise for a better life, one in which I could have still died.”

The Doctor's head shot up at her words and he wanted to protest but ignoring him she kept talking. “Staying with you… that is what would have killed me. I would have remained human and I would have aged and died, happily. But that's the fate of humans, they are meant to die. Instead, you left me, and I became this. A goddess-like wraith in eternal pain, longing for her lost love. I lived a long and lonely life – with you, it might have been short in comparison, but it would have _ended_." Holding out her hand for his, she turned and continued pulling him after her toward the pinnacle and dreaded destination.

He opened his mouth, wanted to apologise, to vocalize how guilty he felt but she wasn't having any of it. The TARDIS was finally in sight, standing forlornly in the dust and ashes of Trenzalore, showing her inner greatness in her last revolt against death.

Rose passed her hand lovingly over the wooden surface. As she leant her head against the entrance, the Doctor grasped how much it must have pained her when he left her behind in Norway all these years ago – the time ship had been her home too.

The TARDIS must have missed her just as much. The doors swung open without resistance and the Doctor's breath hitched in his throat at the sight before him: his  _entire_ life was laid out in front of him. Falling from the ceiling where the console had once stood was an undulating river of light. It was a gigantic golden time stream, almost resembling to a waterfall, m ade up of the many shimmering strands of his lives, all woven together and flowing constantly throughout the beginning and ending of his very long existence.  Never had he been more vulnerable – and never had he been more tempted. Everything he ever did and ever would do was there and it would take so little to change the twists and turns of his life.

Rose walked towards his time stream, her entire body language indicated awe, admiration and love. Standing still before the golden light she started speaking, her voice barely audible. "Look at your time stream. It is beyond beautiful - it's gorgeous. This is all you. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, Doctor." Her voice nearly cracked and she sounded much like the nineteen year old girl who had once been overwhelmed by the wonders of the universe.

And he finally saw her too. Her impact on his life, her strength and her trust in him surfaced as their short time together played out before him and became visible in his streams of time as ribbons of pink. But Rose, here in the TARDIS, was a golden light all by herself. When he looked at his beautiful girl he felt like he could see two gigantic rivers, flowing next to each other while only crossing every once in a while. His Rose had been entwined with him, a brighter gold, had been part of his life, and yet lived so many years in solitude – her shining golden presence was wrapped around his life but he had lost her and never properly tried getting her back.

But now, she had returned and all that pale golden light was again entangled with his own life, adding a brightness, a sense of hope to his fate that he had missed for such a long time.

Finally, the last remnants of his fear shattered and he had never felt more comfortable in his long life than right at this moment. He was embraced with love. It surrounded him and washed away the heartache. There was nothing to fear for he had come home. He was in the TARDIS, in the only home he had ever known with the woman who loved him above all - the woman _he_ loved above all. Infinite, unconditional love; that's what this was. A love that would never die, never be spoiled, never cease became visible in the waves of time itself and oh! It was all for him. True eternal love was his and he finally noticed that she demanded nothing in return and never would. Rose was about to give him something - something beyond his imagining.

He felt like flying, pure joy streamed through his veins, maybe he was high - high from time, high from love; an unknown giddiness rushed his veins. His eyes swam and he wasn't able to focus any longer. He needed to sit down, to sleep, to process. Panting heavily, he leaned against the wall, tried to steady himself, but nearly doubled over as so much sensation tried to overpower him.

Feeling his discomfort, Rose backed away from the flowing torrent of time. Wrapping her arm around the Doctor's waist, she steadied him as she guided him gently towards the floor, seating him against the wall.

"This is pure time," she explained getting up again and starting to circle his majestic time stream.

“You shouldn't be so close to it, Time Lord. But don't worry, we won't stay much longer,” she added, reaching out her hand to caress one of the strands of light.

"Have you ever thought about time?” she mused. “There are infinite options, infinite varieties. Everything can happen and everything is possible. But then there comes a moment...a single moment...a tiny moment, and one individual makes a decision. Then, the infinity is gone. All the options are gone, gone forever and what remains is a fixed point in time that can never be rewritten. Infinite variety turns into infinite regret. But right now infinity lies before us. Don't you see it? This is your grave, but it doesn't have to be."

The Doctor tried to focus, tried to follow her train of thought, but everything was becoming overwhelming. Lifting his head, breathing, thinking – it was all tiring.

Crossing the room with long strides, Rose rushed towards him and kneeling down before him, her harsh, insistent voice broke through the haze of his fogged mind. "If you could be given the possibility to change one single moment in your life, which one would that be?"

He stared at her dumbly, mouth hanging agape. He could only process that she was really there, really Rose and he wasn't alone. The time stream hurt his head but there was this massive feeling of love too, and all he could think about was how wonderful his future might become if he could only take a tiny piece of that emotion with him.

"I would not leave you. I would not let your fate be what happened to you," he finally answered confidently, reaching for her hand, trying to pull her into his lap.

"Liar," she said teasingly as she pulled away and angled her body away from him, obviously not pleased with the answer."There is something far bigger. Go on. Tell me what you desire above all. Tell me what keeps you from living. Tell me about the _guilt,”_ Rose pressed, urging him to admit what really kept him from _living._ What really pained his hearts every single day more than the loss of his Ponds, River and Rose combined.

"Gallifrey. It burnt. I burnt it," he uttered. His gaze transfixed by the swirling golden lights as other images surfaced - crying children, burning cities, corpses and Daleks. Always the Daleks rushed through his life.

Rose nodded as she stared with him at the terrible memories. She was now sitting next to him, head on his shoulder and one hand resting lightly on his knee."But what if you did not? What if you could have that moment back? Would you change your mind?" she inquired softly.

"Rose-I can't. I had to make the decision to let either Gallifrey fall or the entire universe," he mumbled brokenly.

"You could have saved them both," she replied, obviously noticing something in his life-lines he was too blind to see.

"No," he uttered, unaware of the tears spilling down his cheeks.

Squeezing his hand she shook her head vehemently. “But you did already! My love, you changed your mind back then! Don't you remember? Please, remember what really happened! You know. You actually give it away once in a while; you just don't notice. Doctor, you refer to Gallifrey sometimes as time locked. Lost to you, but not lost forever.” Her voice was urgent, pleading, begging him to remember, but he fought her, fought the memories with all his might, shaking his head in growing agitation.

“Let me help you remember the truth,” she finally stated. Getting up, Rose took her heart from his pockets and placed it again in his hands. Closing her hands above his and looking deeply into his eyes she said, “I always believed in you. I always knew you could make a better decision than you did the first time.” Her eyes plead with him truly to hear her. “Burn Gallifrey. That's so not like you. So uninspired. Normal people would do such a thing,” Rose scoffed.

She paused before moving on again, “But back then, you had no one around you to assure you of yourself. You always needed someone to remind you of what you are capable of. You need someone to have faith in you.”

Looking down at their joined hands, wrapped tightly around the warm stone, she continues, her voice thick with emotion, “ _This_ is my heart in your palm. My entire love, my entire faith in you is placed in this little ruby. This is me, Doctor, and I want you to send it back in time, to the version of yourself who needs it the most. Give my heart to your younger self, let me hold your hand when you need it the most, and you will rewrite the past. Time can be rewritten!"

The Doctor gave her a disbelieving stare. “This is what you meant when you said I brought your heart myself into the TARDIS?” She nodded. “Let me get this right: you want me toss this ruby into my time stream and send it to... _me_?”

She pulled him up from the floor and softly started shoving him towards the dying TARDIS' centre. Rose nodded again and a small smile crept into her voice. “Now you are getting it, my daft alien.”

Suddenly, through the haze of his mind, unsure how it happened, they were standing directly in front of the time stream. Staring down through all that light, through all those memories, he tried to understand but he hesitated in confusion. This was way too easy: Just by tossing Rose's heart down there the Time Lords would jump out of the rabbit hole. Is that it?

“Close your eyes. Let go,” Rose whispered into his ears, and wasn't it tempting? He imagined another past, dared to dream for a second: The Time War ended without the loss of his people. They were somewhere out there, waiting for him, waiting to be recovered. _Gallifrey._ His home. He imagined it being safe and sound, locked away from the horrors of the universe just like a little red ruby in a wooden box, and as his knees gave out.

He wanted so very much to go back home. And wouldn't the Time Lords be able to heal his Rose? In his delirium, he imagined he and Rose having the happy life they had always deserved. Imagined being the hero who had come to claim his fairytale ending at last.

Hot, salty tears pricked his skin as he imagined what would never be and it pained him so much – giving in to all the memories, the lost possibilities. As he sagged to his knees weeping, the ruby slipped from his fingers and fell into the time stream.


	9. Conquering the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sad, yet hopeful ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I owe everything to my amazing beta [elensari](http://archiveofourown.org/users/elensari)  
> 

When the little ruby slipped from his grip, fell through his memories, and finally hit the ground hundreds of years in his past, the Doctor lost consciousness.

Too many painful memories faltered, shifted, and changed all at once. A past once stable, once set and fixed, was in flux again, and even the mind of a Time Lord was unable to process all these alterations.

The Doctor dreamt. Visions rose and shattered in front of his inner eye as his body slept safely in his golden goddess' soft embrace.

Everything he ever asked for, wished for, yearned for, all he had ever desired was right there at his fingertips. He just had to extend his hand, reach for everything he had been missing for such a very long time, and selfishly claim it.

And he claimed it all: claimed his home, his Gallifrey, his Rose.

The Time War no longer ended with the death of his entire species. No, the Doctor found another solution when his Rose's trust, compassion and love had been with him in his darkest hour.

Numerous time lines stirred, shifted and a glorious vision of a possible future loomed in front of his eyes, as he dreamt of another reality. The Doctor had come home; he had lost his urge to run. It felt right to stay after gallivanting across time and space for so long.

The Time War became less than a memory. It was only a bad dream that he had awakened from and for once, he didn't try to hold on or grasp the fleeting strands of that horrid reality. All that guilt was lifted from his shoulders as billions did NOT die by his hands.

He could hear Rose's faint voice whispering in his ear, “Gallifrey falls no more.”

“Gallifrey rises,” he replied in awe as a picture of his home-planet formed in front of his inner eye. Gallifrey, was still _somewhere_. It had been hidden in a gigantic snow globe beyond time, far away from the terrors the Daleks had bestowed upon the universe.

In this fantasy, the Doctor returned home, not to a war-torn planet, but to an empire at the height of it's glory. He was in the capitol, walking under the glass-cupola of the dome towards Rassilon's throne – but it was no longer the megalomaniac who ruled.

 _She_ sat on the throne. Smiling down benevolently upon him and holding out her outstretched hand; Rose urged him to cross the hall. Above his head, he saw the stars shining bright through the glassy ceiling, super-novas exploded and entire galaxies whirred lazily in the impossible reality of his dream.

His home and the only woman he ever truly loved were waiting for him and she was so _beautiful._ Everything he believed to be lost forever had been restored and oh! The lonely wanderer was given a perfect ending at last.

 _Forever_ was no longer just the promise of a naïve young girl in love, but his future, his destiny, his ultimate destination. He just had to reach out and it would all be his. The universe was finally returning all his favours and countless sacrifices. Unbelievably, this was actually happening to _him._

He could feel the soft, warm pressure of pink lips on his forehead as he finally made it to his Rose and her smile was warm and loving.

“It's time to wake up,” she whispered and his eyes snapped open.

The ground beneath him was hard and cold and he wasn't at home but on Trenzalore, still inside a dying TARDIS and Rose was still enshrouded in her black robes.

But there was a new memory in his head. He could feel it but it was locked, hidden from him and waiting to be unravelled.

The Doctor frowned in confusion.

“You should cover your head,” Rose told him softly.

“Why?” he groaned out, rubbing his face wearily.

“We just changed countless fixed points in time,” Rose explained softly. He could hear the amusement in her voice when she added, “I guess your time-stream will be a tad bit outraged.”

Stretching his neck and glancing at his time-stream, the Doctor let out a muffled cry of terror.

The once peaceful golden flow had become a raging force of nature. The floor beneath him started to crack as it was ripped open by the force of time being rewritten. Walls started crumbling and the Doctor stumbled to his feet, desperate to get some distance from the fires of his own life. He expected Rose was following, but when he reached the TARDIS' door and turned to look for her, she was still in peril, exactly where he had left her.

Staring back at Rose tense faced with wide open, horrified eyes he yelled at her, “Rose! What have you done? Get over here!”

The woman in black didn't move. Rose stood resolutely near the liquid fire that his time-stream had turned into. When she looked up at him and spoke, her voice sounded calm – bored almost.

"It's time I fulfil my promise, Doctor," Rose said gently, nodding softly towards the Doctor.

"Rose!” he growled in frustration. “The universe will collapse, time will end. Don't you see? You have created a paradox way too big to be sorted! Not even my TARDIS can hold the balance,” he argued, tugging his hair in frustration – and fury.

Rose still wouldn't move. His words seemed to fall onto deaf ears. When he wouldn't stop lecturing her and kept on raging, Rose made a dismissive gesture to silence him. "Yes. I know. Paradox. Big. Bad," she mocked absent mindedly, eyes trained intently at the time-stream that had become a raging inferno as she waited.

Suddenly, a blast of raw Time came crushing down upon Rose's tiny shape and her black shrouded figure was engulfed. She burnt brightly for a moment in the flames of the Doctor's life and it wasn't long until only ashes floated in the rushing wind of the oncoming destruction.

A silent cry formed in the back of the Doctor's throat as he watched in horror as the flames licked higher and higher. Just when another blast was building, a wolf rose from the conflagration like a phoenix.

A giant, spotless white wolf jumped clean out of the time stream. The monster's golden eyes rested for a moment on the Doctor's face and he was sure the beast _smiled,_ before it jumped back into the consuming fires with a howl so mournful it shattered the Time Lord's hearts, dropping him to his knees in anguish.

The abrupt and immediate silence was even worse than the preceding inferno. The time stream shrank back to it's primary size, flowing peacefully in the middle of the remaining heart of the dead TARDIS. The Doctor's furiously beating hearts calmed slowly as he gasped and sucked in shuddering breaths. After a few moments he felt more recovered and lifted his eyes to gasp again in surprise at the figure before him.

Rose stood, bathed in the light of the time stream, apparently restored back to her former human shape. She was incredibly thin; the Doctor could make out each and every bone under her pale white skin as she was only covered by her long, blonde hair. She was shaking violently and breathing too quickly. Turning to the Doctor and forcing herself to smile she collapsed, even that little effort too much for her.

He was at her side before her fragile body hit the floor, catching her easily and cradling her in his arms.

"Hello," she managed to croak out, looking up at him with solemn but calm eyes. Soon, she would finally have peace.

"Hello," he replied smiling while he covered her trembling body with his coat. He carried her over to one of the walls. Sitting down, he embraced her in his arms and settled her carefully on his lap. Stroking her hair, he rocked her back and forth like a child.

"Naughty girl," he forced himself to joke as a crooked smile formed on his lips. "You didn't tell me how intimidating this spectacle you planned would be."

Rose wrapped her arms around the Doctor's body, resting her head on his chest as she replied softly, "You would not have approved else."

"Ah, I never mind a little fire. But next time, I think we should consider only having a campfire, maybe just a candle, or whatever else you want to do as soon as we get home."

"As long as you don't take me to the beach; I hate beaches," she replied, grinning half-heartedly with her tongue between her teeth. "Doctor, take this," she said, putting a little metal key into his hand."

"Your TARDIS key?"

"You'll need it. I've charged it with enough vortex power to take you home. Just hold it tight. I'm sorry, but it will be like travelling with a vortex manipulator, a bumpy ride," she paused shortly before continuing. "Please, stay with me for a while before you leave."

"I'm not leaving. And as long as I'm gone you should keep my own key. I'll get the TARDIS and everything will be alright. I still have to show you Barcelona and then we'll have to find Gallifrey, won't we?" he smiled and his voice was joyful, optimistic even. He chose not to notice the tears streaming down his face.

"You'll find it. Soon. But first you have to save it. All your regenerations will be needed to lock it safely from time."

"Rose, why can't I remember what happened to Gallifrey?"

"Because it still happens in your future. But now, you have everything you need to make the right choice. Trust me."

"And the paradox?"

"I took care of it," Rose said smiling almost smugly as she lifted her hand to stroke back the Doctor's floppy hair from his forehead. “You still have some great hair,” she stated with her trademark smile.

Catching her hand and directing his solemn gaze into hers, he demanded to know, "So everything will be okay? All 2.47 billion children on Gallifrey restored back to life? No terrible price to pay?"

"Trust me, I took care of it," she replied more weakly.

"How?" the Doctor asked and his hearts clenched painfully in his chest in dread of the answer.

Rose looked up into his eyes and gave him a sad smile, "I became the Bad Wolf when I looked into the heart of the TARDIS. I created myself only to create a kinder reality for you – it was my gift, Doctor. I used to hold all of time and space in the palm of my hands and that's the destiny I chose. I died, my Doctor. Hundreds of years ago, but Bad Wolf wouldn't let me go until I fulfilled my promise – until we knew you were safe."

"But you are still you,” he argued as he clutched her tightly. “Completely restored, living, breathing – not some supernatural Goddess. My brilliant, perfect Rose, that's what you are." His voice nearly broke and he rocked her softly in his arms, kissing her forehead gently.

"I wish we had visited Barcelona. Would have loved to see them dogs," she mused in response, her eyes trained on the time-stream.

"And we will. You promised Rose. You promised forever, you can't break your promise now!" he murmured in desperation as realisation of what was about to happen finally sunk in. “You're going to die, aren't you?” he asked, entwining their fingers.

"I placed my entire love, trust and faith for you into my immortal heart so you could make another choice, so time could be rewritten and I could be there for you in your darkest hour. My heart holds all you need to keep Gallifrey safe and your people alive. The ruby – it was everything, it kept me alive until today. It's now hundreds of years in your past. And one day, you'll make another choice, a better choice for the universe and take it with you in a wooden box.”

"But that means your heart is still in the TARDIS! I can take you home, I can give it back to you. That would heal you, wouldn't it?” he asked over excitedly, already moving to lift her up from her floor but she caught his wrist and shook her head.

"Doctor," she forced him to look into her eyes, "No. Gallifrey falls no more. That's all that matters."

" _You_ matter."

"More than the 2.47 billion children on Gallifrey? Don't be ridiculous," she snorted, letting her head loll back.

"YES," he stated firmly, supporting her head against his shoulder. "I don't want Gallifrey at the price of your life!"

"One life traded for billions? I suppose it's the best deal we ever made."

He gave her a horrified stare, "But it's _your_ life."

"How should it be more precious than anyone else's?"

 _How can she sound so calm about this?_ The Doctor wondered, angrily. He clenched his jaw and shouted out,"Because it is your life and I want to be with you! Because I _love_ you! You promised; you promised me _forever_."

" _I want you safe my Doctor,_ " she said, “That's the promise I made; and I kept it.”

"You're about to break the other one," he stated miserably, sobbing.

Rose looked up to the Doctor to study his broken features: his eyes were red from tears, he trembled slightly and his arms were wrapped almost painfully tight around her body. She brought one hand up to his face to wipe away the tears, caressing his cheeks and she moved a bit to give him a proper kiss. Only their need for air made them break apart at last.

"You know," she whispered, "I'm not entirely breaking it."

"What do you mean?"

"Beautiful, beautiful idiot. You did not ask me why I choose the name "Astrid"

"Okay," he sighed, "Why did you choose the name Astrid?"

"Astrid. TARDIS. Astrid ," she giggled with a sing song voice. “I want to tell you a fairytale, Doctor. Once upon a time, a Time Lord stole a TARDIS, but he wasn't done stealing. He also stole a shop-girl. But it also works the other way around, doesn't it, my Doctor? The girl and TARDIS, they stole the Time Lord too. And one day, the girl looked into the heart of the TARDIS and she and the time-ship saw exactly the same thing. Do you want to know what we saw?”

He shook his head, brow furrowed in confusion.

“We saw you. Only you – the TARDIS and me, we are alike. We are both part of time, part of your life and we'll both protect you as long as we live. The TARDIS and me are bonded in some way. A part of me is part of her – and that part, that memory will be with you until the end of time itself.”

“I don't understand,” the Doctor mumbled.

“I toyed with time, Doctor. There's nothing to understand other than that you get another chance. I sent my heart into your past and future. I planned this for so long..." she says tiredly before suddenly looking directly into his eyes. "It's so hard to let go. I was half-dead for so long and now I feel alive again – it's _brilliant_ , Doctor. Promise me one thing: don't ever give up, don't waste your life like you used to. Be my Doctor again.”

"I promise," he whispered. Then a little crease formed between his nearly non-existent eyebrows as a niggling question finally pushed forward, “Rose, how can you still be alive without your heart?”

She shrugged in his arms. “A bit of vortex power has remained in my veins, causing my blood to run. I won't last long." Rose sounded calm and resolved but the Doctor could see the hidden fear in her eyes, and she said to him, “I know you don't like goodbyes. I don't expect you to stay, Doctor.”

“I won't leave you, Rose Tyler, never again.” he vowed, kissing the crown of her head. Her hair was wet from his tears.

“Don't cry,” Rose admonished him softly. “You won't remember, this. The events of today lead to decisions you'll still have to make in your future and if you decide to, this memory never has to unravel.”

“I want to remember every second with you,” he replied and giving in, he pressed another soft, desperate kiss to her lips.

And in his hearts and mind, he regretted.

Regretted all the missed chances.

Regretted having left her behind.

Regretted his choice during the Time War.

Regretted not being able to conquer his past without her and her sacrifice.

And he wept. It felt like he would never be able to stop crying again. But he would. Soon. Because he would forgive himself when he remembered he had changed his mind, and saved Gallifrey. And still he was losing so much. The universe always demanded a sacrifice.

"How much time do we have left?" the Doctor asked Rose after a while.

"23 hours, 38 minutes, and 16 seconds," she answered, snuggling further into him.

The Doctor heard an echo calling from his past, " _One day with your beloved. Which day would you chose?_ " But you don't get to choose, the day is chosen for you.

He fought down the rising panic and turned towards her, knowing that the pain of losing her would be worse by every second he chose to remain at her side—and it would still be worth it.

"Well, 23 hours, 37 minutes, and 5 seconds to make up for an entire life? I guess we have an awful lot if living to do.” Forcing a smile upon his face, he asked her, “So, Rose Tyler, love of my lives...all of time and space – where would you like to start?"

*********

Some time later, The Doctor found himself back at the Powell Estate, not knowing what had happened in the past 24 hours.

 

Yet, he felt more hope in his hearts than in the past century, and it wasn't long until he met an impossible girl called Clara and started living again, solving mysteries and exploring the universe.

 

After all, life still held some promises – even for the Doctor.

  


  


 


End file.
